Mockingjay Alternate Ending
by BluRay99
Summary: With the same end result as Collins version, this ending doesn't have the psychological difficulties Katniss suffered from that seemed dragged on; yet she still faces them. Discover an encounter with Gale; read as Peeta and Katniss reunite after he is cured from Snow's hijacking and learn of a nightmare that haunts our hero; all of which were never in the original tale.


_So this is an alternative ending for Mockingjay. I wrote one because I found the original one more psychological and unclear than enjoyable. When Katniss chose Peeta he seemed to be just a regular boy, nothing special, nothing to remind the reader that this is the boy from the first Hunger Games, the boy throwing bread; there was also no true goodbye for Gale; this made the ending seem rushed. Katniss's depression on the other hand, seemed to drag on a bit (in my opinion). In the book she sits in her kitchen for months and I believe that this is not true to the strength and independence of the girl on fire. My version is very similar to the original ending; the result is exactly the same, some stuff is even paraphrased because I'm glad it was included in the book. At the end I do use a quote from the actual novel that Katniss uses about Peeta. I don't own any of the content used, all rights reserved. I hope you enjoy and please leave a comment!_

**We start off on page 374 of Mockingjay, the hard cover copy (perhaps paper back as well). In the previous chapter Katniss murders President Coin and we start off here**

"In the mansion, they handcuff and blindfold me. I'm half dragged, half carried down long passages, up and down elevators, and deposited on a carpet floor. The cuffs are removed and a door slams closed behind me…"

I pull off the blindfold but my surroundings are overwhelming. White. No tables no beds no doors, plain white. I turn around and see a blank wall staring back at me, laughing.

"Impossible," I whisper as my hands frantically feel for a door and I trace a thin line on the wall. I sit back down on the rough carpet. Where is this room? Did Snow keep this for prisoners, infidels, people who mocked the Capitol? Then a sour feeling travels through my body; did Coin make this? And I realize I'm probably right.

I bury my head and my hands, trying to keep what little sanity I have left.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen, I'm seventeen years old. I murdered President Coin. Darius is dead. Cinna is dead. Boggs, dead. Finnick, he's dead too and Prim, sweet Prim, is gone. I'm not dead… and I hate that_.

I open my eyes and face white nothingness again. I immediately give this place a name: _The White Box_. I'm going to die here, in this nothingness, in my Mockingjay costume, I know it.

I don't sleep, I don't move, I sit with my back against the wall I came in so I don't lose it and stare at the empty blank. Time loses me, has it been minutes? Hours? Days since I killed Coin? Where is everybody? Where's the food? Are they going to starve me to death? It feels as though the walls are closing in on me, are they? The room is spinning; did they program it to do this? The roof comes closer to me, the white merging in with the walls. I realize this must be part of the plan, to dispose of me in a horrendous way. Flatten me; destroy all that's left of the girl on fire. Grind me to pieces. I close my eyes and Finnick enters my mind. He's struggling to hang onto the ladder as three mutts tear at him. One takes the death bite and he's gone. I scream and try to reach him, but something's stopping me. I can't move. I then see Cinna; three Peacekeepers burst open the door behind him. Two pin him down and cuff him while the third smashes him in the temple. He falls to his knees. They keep hitting him, blood gushes from all parts of his body and his crippled figure is dragged from the room. I cry even louder, I have to help them! Why am I so useless? I see Prim, she's helping the children who suffered from the explosion and hope fills their eyes as they see her approach. She turns and faces me and I watch the explosion go off. She's blown to pieces. Peeta then appears. He's weak and lifeless. Blood drips down his body, his arms are cuffed upward on a wall. "Katniss," he whispers lifting his head, "Katniss." Then a shadow hovers over him and he looks up. Snow stands there, a grin painted across his snakelike face, a hideous line emphasizing the two slits above his nose. His eyes. He looks amused at the crippled Peeta, but he's not alone. Someone else stands next to him, laughing. Then Peeta's voice fills the air. _Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't… find out._ Suddenly the figure next to Snow becomes clear. Coin. "Katniss," he looks at me "please." I scream, I shriek, yelling to help him, I watch as these images flash through my head. I'm about to scream again when I'm jolted backwards. The sudden shock causes my eyes to snap open. I lay on the ground, half way in The White Box and half way in a hallway of the mansion. My head rests on two shoes and I don't even need to look up to tell who wears such an odor.

"Looking good sweetheart, trials over, we're going home," Haymitch says. I look up, panting and see his body towering above mine. Before I can process what he said he speaks again, stepping over me.

"What is this place?" he places a foot into the room and I realize I'm too weak to move. I stare up at him like a child looking at the sun for the first time, mesmerised by what looks like whirls of fire so far away. Then reality kicks in and I almost smile thinking I could be mesmerized by Haymitch.

"Okay, okay, we're leaving but I don't think she's getting up on her own," He says with is arms in the air backing away from the White Box. I missed the exchange but I imagine he must have been scolded for entering the room. I wonder how much he's had to drink. A guard approaches me but his presence is almost comforting.

"No worries, we've _already_ been instructed by Paylor to find some good use for this room, its sound proof but I'm thinking storage." He says as he lifts me up. Did he say Paylor? Why would he have to listen to Paylor? Are these her guards? And I was staying in a storage room! I suddenly realize how tired I am and give up on being furious or inquisitive.

The guard carries me to a room where strangers rehydrate and feed me, bathed and clothed; I feel like one of the dolls Madge used to own… Madge, what happened to her? They offer to carry me as my last article of clothing is on, but I deny. No matter how tired I am, I can walk, I've done it in the Hunger Games and I can do it now. They've fed me, so it won't be hard, will it? I try to take a step but a flash of Prim's face hits me like a hammer and I stumble backward as agony fills me. _Katniss_ Peeta's desperate voice fills my head and I'm dizzy. Peeta, where is he? I have to help him! The stranger is about to lift me up but I reach my hand out to stop him. Peeta's fine, he must be fine. The war's over. I can do this; I'm not some baby taking its first steps… only to participate in the reaping twelve years later. I stumble again but catch myself. The man displays a stern face and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Why am I making this a big deal? Because I can walk, I know I can. I steady myself on the wooden floors and am relieved when mobile again. I turn to him, indicating for someone to lead the way.

We enter a hallway of the mansion and I'm led to another door. It is made from a silver rusted metal, standing out amongst the cream coloured walls. I'm surprised I hadn't seen it earlier. The man I'm following opens it revealing stairs which I unwillingly climb. I wish I had agreed to being carried. I feel my fatigue take over. Each step is harder and harder to reach. Sweat travels down my forehead but I quickly wipe it. No matter how much I feel walking on my own was a mistake, I will not let it show. We finally reach the top and are greeted by another metal door. This time I walk through it without waiting for the stranger to and a light breeze engulfs my body. I close my eyes for a moment taking in the fresh air. We are on the roof of the mansion and my regrets about walking melt away. Rows of people line either side of where I stand, leading to a hovercraft. Most of the people are strangers, no doubt trying to get a glimpse of the girl on fire finally falling; but as I approach the air craft I recognize Johanna. I'm willing to walk past her, knowing the last thing I want is to see the hatred in her eyes but she breaks free from the line and stands in front of me.

"About time somebody shut her up," she says. He words rub me the wrong way. What's it supposed to mean anyways? Coin rarely spoke to us and hadn't been in power for long, plus Johanna had been the one to agree with her first about having another hunger games. Is she mocking me? I'm about to tell her off when I see the look in her eye. I'm taken aback by the compassion. Then I understand what she meant. In her own little way, this was Johanna telling me we _are_ friends, that our teamwork in 13 wasn't all full of hatred for Snow, though that did take presentence. We care for one another, no matter how deep it is in her. I wrap my arms around her and realize after we met, never in a million years did I imagine I would one day like her, let alone hug her.

"Alright Katniss, just a bit too close for me," she says, still with her smile on her face as I let go, I smile and she laughs.

"I'll see you around," she says as I continue walking and then a thought hits me. I probably won't see her around. I don't know where they're taking me. Haymitch said home, but what's home to him? An underground room in 13? I walk in a haze once more. How can I survive 13 without Prim? How can I survive at all without her? I frantically begin to scan the people for Peeta, where is he? He should be here? Is he okay? Instead my eyes lock on someone else and I don't know what to feel.

"Hi," Gale says looking into my eyes as I approach him, which causes me to look away.

"Hi" I say. I want to yell at him, scream at him, blame him for everything I'm feeling; but the pain is too much. Didn't we end it before I shot Coin? Why is he here? Why are all these people here? Isn't there some sort of schedule? Am I allowed to be talking to all these people while I have a hover craft awaiting me? Shouldn't I be going?

Gale takes my hands which forces me to look at him. I think of all the times we were in the woods, watching each other's back. Listening to him rant about the Capitol, sitting on the grass… kissing me. How long has it been since he discussed running away together? Five years? A decade? More like a century. Would I have ever said yes? _We could do it you know. Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it._ No, I had Prim to look after to then.

"I already got offered a job in District 2" he says, searching for something in my eyes. Something we both know is not there. I wait for the distress to sink in, the sadness, the longing, but all I feel is relief. I don't think twice before my arms are wrapped around my best friend and my head buried in his broad shoulders.

"Goodbye Gale," I say, loud enough for his ears to hear only.

We stand there for a moment, locked in each other's arms, in a frozen embrace until the stranger who led me here begins to speak in the background, a hum in the wind. We part but his hands remain by my waist and mine on his shoulders, slowly slipping to my sides. We look into each other's eyes for a second; and I know he can tell I won't forgive him. I can't.

"Goodbye Catnip," he says with a smile. I can't help but laugh at this as the stranger finally leads me away. The truth begins to sink in when I enter the hovercraft; yet a smile remains painted across my face.

Gale, my best friend, the one who always has my back, my hunting partner, is gone, forever.

Haymitch and Plutarch sit across from me in the hovercraft as we enter the air. I wonder what they thought of all the people awaiting our aircraft and then I realize the two hadn't been with me as I faced the crowd. I've been keeping them waiting. Plutarch, nonetheless, seems to be the happiest man in the world. "I bet _you're_ anxious to know what's been happening!" he says. I don't say anything so he continues.

Shooting Coin caused chaos. People went crazy and when everything finally died down Snow was dead, still attached to the post. Some believe he choked to death when laughing and others assume he was crumpled by the mob of people; truth is no one cares. A sudden election took place with Paylor voted in as president and Plutarch appointed secretary of communications, he now sets the programing of the airways. My trial was the first big televised event and one which he stood as a witness in my defense. It's all thanks to Dr. Aurelius that I was released; he presented me as a dazed and desperate lunatic. The condition for my freedom is for me to be under his care, in this case by phone because he would never find himself in such an abandoned place like 12; where I actually do seem to be headed. Plutarch laughs.

"I think this is finally it," he says.

"What?" I ask, still taking in the aftermath of Coin's death.

"Peace." He must see the puzzlement in my face because he begins to explain.

"When no matter what obstacles lay in our way, nothing will result in violence. No more blood spilled and innocent lives lost. I believe and I hope this is the end of all wars. That from now on everyone will live a happy life. For starters I know how many people are relieved the Hunger Games are done for good."

His words surprise me. Not only did many of the people Plutarch associated with in the Capitol love the Hunger Games, this is also coming from the head gamer. I take in his words and find relief spread through me, Coin's suggestion didn't hold. With her death came the death of the Hunger Games. Suddenly I make sense of it all. How foolish I was to say yes to another hunger games when asked by Coin, how foolish of her to offer it! It was an act of murder, a savage way to please those who craved death. I think back to Peeta on the roof before our first games, he always foresaw the truth.

We drop off Plutarch in District 3 for a meeting he has with Beetee. When we're in the air once more I turn and face Haymitch.

"So why are you coming with me?" I ask, yet as the words escape my mouth I know the answer. Haymitch hasn't hurt anyone; he's free to go anywhere. If he's going back home, it's because of me. "You're my mentor, aren't you? You have to look after me?" He nods and raises his pupils while doing so, making it seem like no big deal. My throat then feels dry as I think it through "My Mothers not coming home is she?" I ask, the truth sinking in. I already know the answer so don't listen to Haymitch's response. All I catch is a job for her in 4 and that she wishes for me to call. I understand, with the death of my father and now Prim's, she couldn't bear to face the place where we were once a happy, complete, family. She was probably already in 4 when I left, I missed her goodbye. Why did I miss Peeta's to? The rest of the ride is a blur, slipping in and out of sleep with the occasional bites of food from Haymitch.

We soon arrive at my Victors house and all I can notice is how deserted the one next to mine looks, Peeta's. The pit in my stomach grows as I walk past, hopping smoke will suddenly appear from the chimney… but it never does. Haymitch departs to his home and I enter my empty building. Someone started a fire in the living room; I sit in front though I am not cold, and I watch the flames.

Two days pass of staring at the now empty fireplace. I leave occasionally to eat whatever is in the cupboards and go to the bathroom, but even then I feel the energy is a waste. This is what I am, the burnt ashes remaining from the girl on fire. I had assumed I only acted this way in the White Box because I had nothing else to do; yet now with my house at my fingertips I do nothing but this. Whatever _this_ is. On the evening of the third day a vase which I hardly noticed on the fireplace itself, falls and cracks in front of my feat. I'm snapped back into reality. I stare at the broken remains for a split second before looking for a source, only to find his yellow eyes staring back at me. Buttercup. I feeling of hatred and anger consume my body. What is he doing here! I notice the scars and thorns on his paws and become even more furious. He walked from 13. Is that even possible?

"She's not here!" I yell at him as he jumps from the fireplace to the floor, wavering a bit to the side. He's noticeably injured from his journey but just looking at him rushes back all the memories of her. "Prim's gone!" I scream. The mention of her name causes him to look at me in hope and I begin to rise on my feet in anger. Buttercup notices my agitation and hisses at me. My fury overwhelms me. How did he get in here anyway? He has no right entering my house! No right! "She's dead you stupid animal!" I shriek grabbing a pillow to throw at him, but collapsing on the floor instead. "…She's dead." Silence fills the room. I will never see Prim's face again. Not her chirpy voice, the beautiful smile, never. I suddenly burst out into tears and clutch the pillow harder. I bury my head in it. She's dead. Soon I feel a rough surface brush my fingers. I look up and find Buttercup licking me and rubbing the furry area under her eyes on my hand. I stare in shock; yet sleep overcomes me and drift into unconsciousness.

When I wake Buttercup is standing not far from where I lay, the way he used to for Prim. I realize then that he is guarding me. I grab him and head for the sink where I start to wash his paws. We both cry again over Prim and when all thorns pulled and he is as good as new I run to the bathroom to look in the mirror. I look dead. It has only been four days since I returned to 12 and I see a stranger looking at me. This girl has greasy, untamed hair. Puffy pink eyes. A pale expression. I splash water on my face and the coolness is shocking.

"This is not Katniss Evergreen" I tell my reflection, wiping off stray tears. "This is not the girl on fire."

I run upstairs and scan the room for it, the one thing I must rid of, it isn't hard to find and its stench faintly roams my bedroom. It's here. I stare at it and it smirks back. The white rose. It is amongst other flowers in a vase and just looking at it horrifies me. It has shrivelled since we first met, but it maintains the perfect feature shaped by Snow's greenhouse. I grab the vase and run down the stairs, in the hallway, through the door and to Haymitch's house. I burst through his front entrance. As I assume the fireplace is on and I throw all of the vases contents into the flames. I then smash the vase on the floor; Haymitch would assume it is another one of his liquor bottles. "Fire beats roses again", I say proudly. I turn and am surprised to find Haymitch staring at me from the sofa. I'm only shocked because I believed he would have been passed out with a knife in hand by now, instead he gives me a steady look, no surprise on his face. We lock eyes and I believe I may see pride in his as well. He nods his head and I leave without saying a word. I have business to attend to. I run back to my house and enter my room once more. I open the windows to rid of the final scents of the rose and then strip myself of clothing. I have a shower and wash off any remains of the Capitol. Kandiss Evergreen is back and Prim would want her to be.

After I am dressed I decide to go to Haymitch's house. I don't owe him an explanation, our exchange at his house said more than enough. I just wish for some company and I do recall him mentioning something about a bow and arrow on the ride here. I want to hunt. I need to. As I turn the corner I see _him _and pull up short. The ground finally feels steady beneath my feet and after so long I can truly breathe. His face is flushed from digging and in a wheelbarrow are a few bushes.

"You came back," I say.

"Well, I couldn't leave the Capitol until yesterday, Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me," Peeta says with a smile. The colour in his eye, the way he looks at me, I know this is the Peeta from the first Hunger Games, the one who told the world he loves me. This is the Peeta who gave me a pearl which I still keep with me. This is Peeta before Snow got to him, this is _my_ Peeta. He takes me in with a breath and looks down at the bushes.

"I thought you might like these. They're Primrose," He says. Primrose, the flower my sister was named after. I walk towards him and he puts his arms out, I enter them willingly and embrace him. He rests his head in my hair and I squeeze tighter. He holds me and I finally feel safe. Safe from the Hunger Games, safe from Snow, safe from the war, I finally feel secure. I lean back and we study each other's faces for a while, I move my hand down his cheek and suddenly I meet his lips with mine. Only a few times we've kissed with me wanting more, yet we were always interrupted, never satisfied. This time nothing interrupts us, not Haymitch, not the weather, not anything in the world. I hold his head to mine with my hands and he keeps his on my hips. We finally release to breath and I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Peeta," I say, "It's you. It's always been you. I love you." I let the words exit my mouth before I understand them myself and then I'm glad I said them. I remember when we first entered the games, how I surprised myself by knowing so much about him, that he lifts hundred-pound bags of flower. How he came in second place for wrestling in the school competition, under his brother. I didn't keep tabs on him for nothing. It has always been him. It has always been the boy throwing bread. I lean back and look at his face, my hands back to behind his head. I see the love in his eyes, the compassion, the affection; yet most of all, I see the happiness. Before he can respond I whisper the same words I uttered the night he had put me to bed after I injured my heel jumping over the electric fence. The same words I told him when he wanted to kill himself on the mission to help the others.

"Stay with me," I say.

"Always," he replies with a smile.

I know this would have happened anyway. What I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

I don't know how long we stand outside in each other's arm, what tares our lips apart is when Peeta laughs, the sound fills me with a sudden joy. "Is this real or not real?" he asks. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he no longer needs to play that game, but is asking for pure amusement. I kiss him quickly again.

"You know the answer to that," I say smiling.

"Not real?" He says with a fake frown and pout. I laugh and he does as well, moving the hair from my face. He closes his eyes and gently leans his forehead against mine.

"Very real," I whisper.

We spend the next few days on a project I came up with. I finally phone Dr. Aurelius and tell him about it, which explains the large box of parchment sheets bounded by leather arriving on the next train from the Capitol. I got the idea from our family's plant book. Things we can't rely memory will keep. The page begins with Peeta's painting of a late individual. Sometimes a photo if we can find one. In my neatest handwriting I write all the specific details about that person that make you smile if not laugh. Lady licking Prim's check. My father's laugh. Peeta's father giving me cookies on the day of the reaping. The colour of Finnick's eyes and his offer of sugar cubes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue looking like a bird about to take flight. All the beautiful memoires, contained with souvenirs, such as a primrose and a photo of Finnick and Anne's newborn son. Preserving their lives between the leather pages.

My head rests on Peeta's lap one day as he paints an image of Madge who I learned never survived the war. Though her father was mayor, it gave them no protection. We couldn't get our hands on a photo of Madge either and I'm not surprised; all that's left of their building is rubble and ash. I look at Peeta's face the whole time he's painting. The concentration, the gentleness. He takes his eyes off the page for a moment and looks at me. I still wake screaming at night of nightmares. But Peeta's arms are there to comfort me. And his lips. I lean up and kiss them. Soft and warm. The door then swings open and I turn to see Haymitch.

"I was wondering," he begins softly, ignoring that he interrupted us; "if I could add to your book." A few hundred others have returned to 12 because this will always be our home. The mines are closed and they plow ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines break ground for a new factory to make medicines. The Meadow has turned green again without any seeding. Peeta bakes. I hunt. A new civilization has begun in here and with the people who came back word spread around fast about what Peeta and I are up to. Soon they came themselves asking if they could preserve their loved ones within the pages. Of course we told Haymitch about it first, but he was more reluctant to go down memory lane than any of us, saying he's fine just covering up the past with liquor.

"Of course," I say as Peeta strokes my hair and I sit up. Haymitch stands there; I can tell by his physicality that he is uncomfortable. Although there always seems to be something that bothers Haymitch, this is worse. I begin to wonder if he's drunk, but for once outside the Games and 13, I think he's truly sober.

"We'd be happy to Haymitch," Peeta says.

"How do twenty-three late tributes sound?" he asks. And then I see it. All the sorrow, all the remorse and agony my mentor has kept inside of him, all the regret that's been hiding under the alcohol, rush onto his surface. _My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I crowned victor, because of the stunt I pulled with the force field._ His words echo through my head. Haymitch has lost more than any of us. He faces the wooden floor hunched over and rubbing his palms against his sides. Just the thought of the nightmares haunting him cause me to shiver. He must be taking responsibility for his family's death and for the tributes he was mentoring that never won. All the lives he believed were on his shoulders… dead. No wonder he hadn't agreed to add to the book before. The memories must be unbearable.

"Haymitch," I say and my gentle voice surprises me, he looks up from the floor, "would you like a cup of tea?" I ask. My words astonish me even more, but I think it's time he has an alternative to liquor. Deep down I know he'll go back… Or maybe not.

"Yes," he says nodding his head, "Yes I'd like that a lot." Ever so slowly he makes his way towards the sofa and sits down next to Buttercup who has already claimed his seat on the right side.

Peeta and I stand up, he pushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and I quickly brush my lips against his cheek; and hand in hand, we make our way towards the kitchen.

THE END

The same Epilogue from the actual story applies. Please leave a comment!


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